[Intro]

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

I'ma need a background check on you, buddy

I ain't playin' no games no more

Seen a lot of 99 clones in these streets, motherfucker

[Verse]

Yeah, I need a background check (What?)

Uh, everybody got a pass but go 'head and give me a sec'

I swear to God that bitch a part of Al-Qaeda the way that she comin' for necks

Letting the choppa sing like it's Flo Rida now, we gotta hop on a jet

Takin' a flight down to ATL, shootin' a movie with Trill, that's a bet

Instead I be lookin' like Tom Hanks' son, Chet

You ain't even really seen none, yet

You ain't even really got a gun, yet

Buyin' Chrome Hearts but he still in debt

Straight to the chin, I ain't talkin' no clef

Zero to five figures like the Jets

I go zero to five hundred like a vet

Like I'm Le'Veon Bell, I'm runnin' up a check

I got thirty on me, I don't play for the Nets

I be tearing down her walls like I'm renovating

Walked up in Saks and he was hyperventilating

He saw the price, his paper disintegrated

He talkin' on Twitter, but I do not do debating

I'm in the field making plays like Budda Baker

Bro, the Clippers now his hair line up on the Lakers

She fuckin' with rappers, I don't really wanna take her

I'm servin' them bars, I ain't talkin' 'bout quaker

My diamonds attack, I told 'em get back

I'm sippin' on Tris, it used to be yak

I'm settin' a blitz, I need me a sack

So why you be talkin' that kizzy and cap?

You fuckin' with weird hoes, Carol Bask'

You stackin' up big pros out the ass

He pourin' green lean in a hydro flask

Put that shit up in the trash

Fuckin' on your bitch, I'ma buy her a lash, or maybe two

I got ones with the ball that never shoot

Never know who to call, he ran through

And my money stand tall, it's 6'2"

Catch me shoppin' at Neim', no J Crew

Rockin' out with a drum like [?]

Want a way to finesse? I got a few